The Gallant Fugitive
by DALLYsaysSHUTtheHELLup
Summary: Tired of the beating she's receiving at home, eleven-year-old Elizabeth takes off for Texas to search for her father who abandoned her years ago. Disguised as a boy, she stumbles across Dallas Winston and gets tangled up in his illegal ways.


A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I do not own "The Outsiders" or any of it's characters. I'm sorry it's so long! I hope you enjoy! Please leave reviews and feedback.

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I made the decision to run away the night I spilled a glass of milk, and my step daddy, Bill, took his belt to me. It's not like I had done it on purpose. It was an honest to goodness accident, and I was genuinely sorry.

Not that it mattered. I got a beating anyway. It also didn't matter that my step siblings spilled milk like there was a dairy farm in the backyard, and they never got so much as a scolding. But I suppose I wasn't on the same level as them since I wasn't Bill's real daughter. I was a charity case in his eyes - plain and simple.

Mama didn't say a word in my defense. She never did. You'd think I wasn't even her daughter with the way she treated me. Sometimes I wasn't sure what stung more, Bill's belt or Mama's sharp tongue.

Mama hadn't always been so mean. I suppose it started when Daddy set off down south to check out the oil rig scene. No matter how much Mama begged and pleaded with him to stay, he went anyway. He figured other folks were getting rich, so why not him too?

While he went and chased fortune, me and Mama stayed in Colorado with Grandma Ruth. It wasn't long until Mama met Bill and forgot all about Daddy. Shortly after Mama married him, Grandma Ruth took ill and died, which is all I can say without crying because I still have a hole in my heart where she used to be.

At first Bill treated me decently. Like Mama and me, he expected Daddy to get rich and probably figured he'd be rewarded for taking such good care of his only daughter.

Eventually Daddy's letters stopped coming, and my kind step daddy told me it was because he didn't want me anymore. Which was no surprise, he had said, since I wasn't anything to brag about.

The night that Bill beat me for the milk was the night I decided that the next time he hit me would be the last time. I'd take off and head south and look for Daddy. His last letter came from Marfa, Texas. I was hoping to find him there.

I didn't have to wait long. A few days later, my step brother Philip, who was the devils spawn, climbed on a stool and tried getting honey from the jar. When my step sister Judy saw what he was doing, she climbed up and tried to get some too.

They both fell, knocking the honey jar down with them with such a loud crash it could've woken the dead.

I probably don't have to tell you what happened next. By the time Bill got there with Mama fluttering behind him, Phillip and Judy were both putting the blame on me. Me—who was upstairs cleaning the bathrooms and made the mistake of coming downstairs to see what all the noise was about.

"I didn't do it," I said, holding up the bucket with cleaning supplies in it for proof. "I was upstairs cleaning."

"Don't you lie, Elizabeth," Bill said, not one to take my word over his precious children's.

"Tell the truth for once," I begged, turning towards Judy and Philip.

They just stared at me with their big blue eyes. "Elizabeth did it," Phillip said.

"She got the cleaning stuff because she was hoping to clean the honey up before you saw it," Judy added.

"They have honey all over themselves," I said desperately, hoping at least Mama believed me, but she didn't even look at me.

"That's because we were trying to clean the mess up," Judy said in a sweet voice.

"That's exactly what happened," Philip piped up, always one to agree with his sister.

At that moment Oliver came through the backdoor. Out of all my step siblings he was by far the worst. He was the meanest twelve-year-old I ever laid eyes on.

"Elizabeth did it," he said. "I saw it."

"You liar!" I yelled. I was so mad I was shaking. "You were behind the shed smoking one of your Daddy's cigarettes."

With that, Bill hauled off and slapped me hard across the face. "I don't know what's worse, you spilling the honey or lying about it."

I held my cheek and stared hard at Mama, wanting her to say something. Anything. Finally, she looked at me. "You've got your father's wild ways," she murmured before turning and leaving the kitchen. By the time Bill started to loosen his belt, I had all the excuses I needed to run.

After dinner, I did my chores as usual, but it wasn't as bad because I knew this would be the last time I'd ever have to do them. I washed the dishes, scrubbed the pans, mopped the floors, and did whatever else Bill thought needed doing.

I kept telling myself that I'd never have to touch a greasy pan again or scrub the big black stove. An edge of excitement was starting to set in, and I had to remind myself to stay calm so that I didn't set off suspicion.

When I was finished with my chores Judy was already sound asleep in the bed we shared. Not bothering to undress, I switched off the lamp and carefully slid in next to my step sister. Even in her sleep she was mean, and it wasn't long before she was kicking me and hogging the blanket.

It didn't matter anymore. After tonight I'd never share a bed with her or anyone else for that matter.

Once I heard snores coming from Mama and Bill's room, I eased out of the bed. If Judy woke up I planned on telling her I was just using the bathroom, but she didn't even stir.

I carefully crept down the stairs, stopping every few steps to make sure Bill was still snoring. I tiptoed into the kitchen and snuck my hand in the cookie jar, Mama's secret hiding place, and pulled out five ten dollar bills.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm no thief. This money was mine. Grandma Ruth left it to me in her will, and every penny of it belonged to me. Mama said she was keeping it safe for me, but I knew I'd never see it unless I took it.

I went to the pantry and helped myself to half a loaf of bread and some jam, which I felt I had earned. Next, I grabbed some apples and some cheese. I wrapped the food in a napkin and stuffed it in my knapsack, along with the money and an old switch blade I found behind the shed.

I took one last look around the kitchen. I knew it may be wrong, but it made me happy to picture Judy at the sink, scrubbing the greasy pans, up to her elbows in soapy water. I was never going to scrub another pan or wash another plate. A new life was waiting for me down South, and I couldn't wait to live it.

As soon as I stepped out on the back porch, Brutus came to meet me. He wasn't the smartest dog, but even he knew better not to make a sound. Like me, he had his shares of hits from Bill's belt.

I dropped down to my knees and threw my arms around Brutus' neck. "I have to go," I whispered. Brutus whimpered like he understood what I was saying, and I pulled back to look into his sad brown eyes. He was a big old mutt, but at that moment he reminded me of a lost puppy. His whining breaking my heart.

I buried my face into his fur and began to cry. How was I supposed to leave him? His only friend in the world, how could I leave him here with Bill?

But how could I take him with me? I didn't know where I would be sleeping or what I would be eating. I didn't know how long it would take me to get to Texas.

He nudged his head against my shoulder, and held out his paw for me to shake, the only trick I ever had time to teach him.

That did it. Without thinking about it, I unfastened his chain, and together we ran through the backyard, through the fence, and down the back road.

We weren't moving as fast as I would have liked, what with Brutus stopping so often to sniff something new, but we finally came to the railroad tracks.

We followed the tracks, and I was hoping to get to the next station by dawn. I wasn't about to buy a ticket here. Might as well just write 'Elizabeth was here' for Bill if I did that.

I hadn't been walking long when I ran into trouble. Brutus was out in the woods looking for some woodland creature to play with, and I was walking along the tracks balancing on them like they were a tight rope. I was lost in a day dream about what my new life would be like.

All of a sudden, a man stepped out of the shadows in front of me. I didn't even have time to think about running. He grabbed my wrist and grinned down at me.

"If it isn't Little Miss Red Riding Hood. Are you on your way to grandmother's house?"

He was eyeing my knapsack, and I gripped the straps with my free hand. He was staring at it like he could see the belongings, including the money.

"Let go of me!" I tried wiggling out of his grip, but he was bigger than me. Stronger too.

"Ain't anyone told you good little girls should be in bed this time of night?" His voice was layered with fake kindness.

I don't want to think about what would have happened if Brutus hadn't come running out of the woods when he did.

He took one look at the stranger, bared his teeth, and let out a growl. The man dropped my wrist, and Brutus lunged at him, proving the meanness Bill tried teaching him wasn't in vain.

Shouting a string of cuss words that were too awful to repeat, the man took off running with Brutus chasing after him and shredding his pants.

Once Brutus was sure the man wasn't gonna stop running until the next town, he came trotting back to me. I praised him and thanked him and kissed him until he was dopey with pride.

I considered scampering back home like a scared rabbit, but something blowing in the breeze caught my eye. It was a clothesline in someone's back yard next to the tracks. I noticed there was a lot of boy's clothes fluttering in the wind. Suppose I snatched some, cut my hair off, and passed myself off as a boy? Surely no one would bother me then. Runaway boys were a dime dozen.

Plus, Bill would be looking for a girl, not a boy once he discovered I was missing. Not that he'd give a hoot about me. It would be the money he'd want back. If I hadn't taken that, he'd probably throw a party at my leaving.

I snuck across the yard and chose the rattiest pair of overalls, hoping they wouldn't be missed. I didn't like stealing, but where else would I get a disguise? And I couldn't afford to leave a ten-dollar bill for it.

I also grabbed an old tee shirt, and then slipped into the woods. I took off my dress and undergarments and shivered into my new clothes.

The overalls were pretty big, but that meant I had growing room which was good. I had been shooting up like a bean stalk lately. I put my shoes back on, thankful for once that they were a pair of Oliver's old shoes. They surely went with the overalls better than a pair of fancy slippers would have.

Next, I dug out the old knife and sawed off my braids. It hurt pretty bad, but I managed to get it as short as some boys.

The only thing I saved from my life as a girl was the necklace Daddy gave me for my sixth birthday. I wasn't about to part with that. I hid the chain inside my shirt. Surely nobody would see it there.

Gathering up my dress and braids, I carried them over to the bridge and tossed them over. I watched as the water carried my old life away. "Goodbye Elizabeth Mitchell," I whispered into the wind.

Now all I needed was a new name. One that fit my new self. It had to be similar to my old name so I'd remember it easily.

After trying out a few names in my head, I decided on Elijah Michaels. I repeated it with every step I took. I walked across the bridge with Brutus racing ahead of me, stopping every now and then to make sure I was still behind him. That dog didn't care what I called myself or what I wore. I was still the one he loved best in this world.

The sun was just beginning to rise when we made it to the station. While me and Brutus waited for the ticket booth to open up, we ate the rest of our food except for an apple.

I knew I should be tired from all that walking, but I was too keyed up to be sleepy. After all, this was my first day as Elijah Michaels.

"Well, aren't you up bright and early, son." The ticket clerk noted, peering at me through the tiny window.

I grinned when he called me son, pleased that I had passed my first test as a boy.

"I need a ticket for the first train heading towards Texas," I said, trying to mimic the gruffness of Oliver's voice. I pulled the money out of my knapsack and laid one of the ten dollar bills on the counter.

The ticket clerk studied the money on the counter, and raised his eyebrows but not his eyes.

I blinked at him, guessing what he suspicioned. "I didn't steal it," I said quickly, my newfound confidence slowly fading. "It's mine!"

"Well now," the ticket clerk said. "I don't normally see ragged boys with that kind of cash." He nodded towards the rest of my money that was still in my hand, and I stuffed it inside the pocket of the overalls.

"Why don't you take a seat over there, and we'll let the police sort this out?"

I couldn't let the police get involved. They wouldn't take a child's word over an adult's. Besides, what if Bill had already reported me missing, and even with a disguise they recognized me from the description?

I grabbed the money from the counter and ran.

"Get back here!" The ticket clerk yelled after me. I think he meant to chase after me, but after seeing Brutus, he changed his mind.

He yelled something else, but I couldn't hear. I was heading straight for the woods as fast as I could go. I didn't slow down until I ran at least a mile. I still kept up a good pace though. Suppose the clerk called the police, and they had nothing better to do but chase after boys like me.

By late afternoon I was hot, hungry, and tired. I had never walked so far in Oliver's boots, and I knew I was gonna have blisters on blisters.

I dropped down in a shady spot and laid back, too tired to take another step. The ground was hard, but it felt nice to lie still.

Brutus dropped down next to me and panted in my face, not exactly a pleasant experience, and I pushed his head away.

I guess he was as hungry as I was, but all I had was the apple. I showed it to him, and he gave it a sniff before turning his head away. I went ahead and ate the apple, but I swear I was hungrier after I finished it.

I tried to ignore the bugs crawling on me and focus on the birds up above, singing a song.

Their song reminded me of a story Mama told me long ago about two children that were abandoned in the woods. They died, and robins took pity on them and covered them with leaves.

Suppose what happened to those children, happened to me and Brutus. We'd die here, and the robins would cover us the same way.

Maybe Daddy would get it in his head to come back to Colorado and stumble upon our bones. He'd recognize the necklace and know it was the daughter he left so long ago.

He'd gather our bones up and bury them together, not knowing which belong to me and which belong to the dog.

He'd make a cross and carve _'Here lies Elizabeth Mitchell and her one and only friend Brutus'_.

Thinking these thoughts made me sad, and I cried myself to sleep. When I woke up I was surprised to see the sun had set. Light still lingered, but the woods were getting dark fast. The evening the air was turning cold.

With my stomach empty, I forced myself off the hard ground. A gust of wind blew, and it brought along with it the smell of burning wood.

Brutus and I crept through the woods, careful to keep quiet. I smelled the scent of something cooking, and it made my stomach growl so loudly that Brutus barked.

"Hush," I told him. "We'll sneak over to the campfire and see who's cooking. If they look kind we'll ask if they can spare some food."

Brutus and I hunkered behind the trees. It was plain to see the men weren't the type that would share their food with a boy and his dog.

They were whooping and hollering so loudly that it could've woken up a hibernating bear. The best thing to do was wait for them to fall asleep and then see what was left over.

The more the men drank, the rowdier they became. The cuss words that flew from their mouths were too bad to repeat.

When the woods became completely dark, a tall skinny man whose head was shaped like a bowling pin said, "what are we going to do with him? Should we kill him?"

I thought the man meant me at first, but before I could give myself away by begging for mercy, I saw there was some poor soul laying on the other side of the fire. It was him he was talking about - not me.

One of the other men laughed harshly, and the sound sent a shiver down my spine. "We already have his money and gold watch. He ain't worth a bullet."

"Don't forget he knows what we look like, King," Pinhead said. "What if he goes to the police or something?"

"He's not stupid enough to go to the cops," King replied. "Even if he wanted too, he would never make it there." Still he pulled out a gun and studied it like he was contemplating what to do.

Pinhead started to wave his own gun around. "If you don't kill him, I will. I'm not ready for the state pen, and I'm not about to risk it."

King took a swig from the flask he was holding. "If anyone's gonna kill him, it's gonna be me."

The man on the ground never said a word. Maybe he was asleep. I hoped he was so he didn't see what was coming.

Stumbling over to him, King nudged him with his boot. "Any last words, Winston?"

I leaned forward hoping to get a glimpse of the doomed man's face, but it was too dark. I heard his answer though. "Go to hell." And Winston spat at King.

King lifted his foot and kicked Winston hard in the ribs, letting out a long string of cuss words about Winston's cheating and hustling ways.

Then he lifted the gun, aimed it at the poor man, and pulled the trigger. The gun made a terrible sound. Winston let out a cry that reminded me of the same noise the rabbit that Oliver once shot had made. A shrill, terrible sound that I knew I'd never forget.


End file.
